I Scream For Everything That I've Loved

The short ride in the elevator just wasn't short enough. My whole body ached with want; my body flushed with Austin's, my hands placed at the back of his cool neck, our lips sloppy yet firm against each other. As we were backed to the far corner, I heard the doors open but I found that it wasn't our stop, and that there were other people boarding. Or, person. Feeling just the slightest bit of respect for the older woman that was now in the elevator, I pulled myself away from Austin. His face was flushed bright pink beneath his light freckles, his eyes fluttering open. Those gorgeous fucking eyes. 

I couldn't pull my eyes away from Austin's as I leaned against the elevator wall, waiting as the woman left and we got off at our floor. As soon as the door opened my fingers pulled around his wrist, practically dragging him down the hall. My hands shook as I fumbled to get the card into the door slot, then I felt Austin take it, finally opening the door. I lead him in, closing the door quietly behind us. 
Our lips were attached within seconds, hands roaming each other's bodies until we found comfortable spots to rest. I had my hands around Austin's hips, rubbing circles through his shirt over the protruding bones, his hands placed gently, cupping my cheeks with his finger tips twisted in my hair. 
And it was really nice. Because no matter how dirty I could be thinking right now, and besides my hips moving forward every so often to cause friction, Austin still managed to make it all feel so sweet. There was nothing dirty about the way he would slide his tongue slowly across my bottom lip, or how those small noises would escape his mouth every time my hips ground forward. 

Except those noises were really turning me on-more than I already was- and I was just about done with all this cutesy stuff. 
I let my tongue push back against his and he let me in, prodding at the tip of his tongue. I slid my hands nearly to his collar, undoing the top button of his shirt. It needed to come off, I needed to see him, to feel him. Just lately I'd thought of this; never thought I'd go through with it. I'd thought- I'd like to trace every line of those tattoos. Maybe, maybe not, with my tongue. It seemed really hot to me, don't judge me. 

To tell you the truth...I'm not drunk. Maybe a little bit, but I do know what I'm doing. And I honestly don't care, don't care if this is my best friend, don't care if we're both straight, don't care if this is wrong, because it's so wonderful. It feels right. Call me cliche but it's never felt so right, to be so close to someone, to have our lips connected, our hands on each other. I couldn't get enough of it. 

I finished unbuttoning his thin shirt, being sure to brush my hands across his chest as I moved my hands to the back of his neck, earning another sweet gasp from Austin. I couldn't help but to try to get closer to him every time he made any resemblance of a noise, our hips pressed together forcefully. Those beautiful hips, I hadn't seen in such a long time. I let my hands drop, preparing to move them back to his hips when his fingers wound around my wrists, holding my hands still. I paused in kissing him to glance down at our hands, wondering why he had stopped me, but before my eyes could adjust on them in the dimly lit room he was pulling me back, pushing his lips upon mine more forcefully then before. He finally released my hands after a short while, then slid his back down the door until he was seated on the floor. I positioned myself comfortably between his legs, leaving open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, down his neck, across his collar bones then back to his neck. I hope he'd enjoy the scratchy, red mark beneath his ear I was working on making tomorrow as much as I would. Hell, he seemed to be already, his body completely relaxed besides his chest arching forward the slightest every once in a while. I let my hands wander back to his chest, inching them down ever so slowly, testing again wether or not I could touch his hips. 
 This time he didn't push me away, didn't stop me. I let my finger tips brush down across the slanted bones, taking in how smooth his skin was. I dared to go as low as his waist band, wrapping my hands around his hips, holding them in place. But something didn't feel right, it felt rough, ragged. It felt- 

"Austin?" He jumped at the sound of his name, seeming to snap back into reality, pushing my hands back once again. I lifted my head from where I had been leaving kisses across his bare chest. His eyes were wide, pupils still blown largely, almost blocking out all color in his irises. And while this was a sight I'd probably drool over any other time, I tore my eyes away, looking down to where my hands rested. 

"W-what...what is this?" I brushed my thumb over the rough patch of skin, finding that it was the same on his other hip. 
He still hadn't answered me, hadn't uttered a sound. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his breath hitting me in the same rhythm. He looked terrified, and like he was about to cry. 
 
"Austin, did you do this?" I pulled his jeans down more, finding more of the scabs mixed in with scars. I felt sick. 
 Of course I knew what they were, of course I knew he did it. 
But why? 
He had always been so happy, always looked for the bright side of things even when everything was wrong. So why had this wonderful, beautiful man caused himself this pain? There seemed to be so many of the lines, crisscrossing his skin in no evident pattern; some recent, others faded. 

"Austin, talk to me. Why did you do this?" 
I looked back up at him to find him shaking his head quickly, eyes still wide. 

"N-no. No, you can't know. I can't tell you. No, this is all wrong." He kept on murmuring to himself, making absolutely no sense to me. He really was crying now, moving away from me until his knees were pulled to his forehead with his long arms around them. I had never seen him look so fragile, out of all the times we had talked or all the times he had cried. This was a huge thing for him, and I obviously wasn't supposed to find out. So I could only wait for him to tell me; there was no way I was getting him to talk. 

I scooted forward and rubbed his back soothingly, daring to speak after listening to him repeating to himself "no,no,no" for a few minutes. 

"Hey...Hey. Look at me." I tipped his chin up to look at me as I repositioned myself back between his legs. 

"Austin, you don't need to cry," I wiped the tears from his cheeks. "And you don't need to hide them." I uncurled his fingers from the fabric he had pulled over the...cuts. 

"I-I'm s-so-rry. I'm so s-sorry." He whispered through his fingers where he was now covering his face. 

"No, don't be sorry. You must have had a reason for..." I brushed the rough skin again.

"No, I'm sorry I di-didn't tell you."

"That's a big secret to keep. So even though I would have wanted you to tell me, I'm not mad that you didn't." 
He shook his head again, looking up to the ceiling. 

"Not about these. These are nothing." 

What? What was he even talking about? These seemed pretty important, unless...

"You mean there's more?" 

"Well, yeah, but that's not what I'm talking about." 
There were more than this? I thought as I looked down at all the cuts. Holy shit. How had I not noticed? 

He paused but I didn't speak, knowing he was about to tell me something. 

"You know how I've been going to the studio, the hospital, and everywhere so much lately? How I've been out like every other day?" 

I nodded, remembering each time he had said he needed to go somewhere, every time he didn't want me to go to the hospital with him. 

"I mean, I have been going to those places. Just not as often as I've said I have. I've been going to therapy sessions. Monday and Friday." 

"Therapy? For what? You mean like your physical therapy, for your heart?" 

"No. I mean mental therapy." He took a deep breath. "Alan, I have depression. I've also got anxiety and a small case of bipolar disorder but thats nothing to worry about, it just goes along with the depression. I'm on two medications for them."
I just don't even know what to say. I don't know what to think. I don't know what to do. So I did what felt was right and leaned down, pulling the hem of his jeans down again and placed gentle kisses along the angry marks. When I was done, I looked back up to him. 

"I know that doesn't actually help, and it won't fix anything, but when you're younger, a kiss on your 'booboos' makes everything feel like it's all right. I want you to feel all right, I want you to be happy. I don't know what really goes on inside that beautiful head of yours but I'll pray that it gets better." 
 Even if it was a small statement, those words were one of the hardest things I've ever had to say. The blush that crept onto his cheeks made me feel as though they might have helped at least a little. 

I don't want my best friend to hurt, I don't want him to be sad, and I definitely don't want him hurting himself. I don't know why he does it, I don't know why he suddenly has depression and I don't know what I can do. All I know right now, is that I want to help him get better. I want to fix him. 

"Thank you. But this head isn't beautiful. It's so full of shit, it's disgusting. Just like the rest of me." 
My breath actually caught in my throat at this. 

"Austin, you and your mind aren't disgusting at all. I don't care how it sounds, but you're beautiful. I might even say perf-" 

"Alan! Look. L-look at me, I'm a fucking mess! I'm disgusting, I-I've ruined myself, it's ho-horrible I hate it!" 
He caught me off guard, pulling his pants down to his knees, gesturing to his legs. I felt my eyes widen at the sight and start to burn as they began to water. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I knew he said there were more, but seeing it all at once was just overwhelming. Thin red lines, old and new scattered his upper thighs and hips, completely covering certain areas where he had really taken it out on himself. 
And the bruises I had seen the other day, they were still there right above his knees and I couldn't help but wonder, did he do that too? I brushed my fingers lightly over the blue-green marks. 
"And these? These are..." 

"Yeah. Those too. It's fucking disgusting. Just, just stop, d-don't look at them. Just forget about it, I'm f-fine." He dragged the pant legs back up, covering all the marks. 

"I can't just forget about it, Austin. Look...I, I know this is going to sound weird, but I just...I need you to know. Y-you're beautiful, okay? You're just gorgeous. I'm a little jealous sometimes. You've got the most wonderful personality, you always know just how to make me laugh. You've got such a nice face," I grinned, caressing it. "And the perfect body, and such great talent. You help so many people every day.  You're just... You're perfect. I need you to know that." 

He had the most wonderful look in his eyes for just a split second before it was replaced with sadness. I don't know how I couldn't see it before, I should have known. The clues were laced all over his body. He was so sad, so...so...ugh. I am literally the worst friend ever. 

"Thank you Alan." 
He said half-heartedly. 

"You don't believe me." 

"Not a word, but you're still the best." He smiled and pulled me into a tight hug. One of my favorite things in the world. 
When he let go I took his face in both of my hands and kissed him, trying to put more emotion into it this time- something other than an "I-need-you-in-my-bed-right-now" kind of vibe. I wanted him to know how special he was to me, how precious he is. That short kiss held more emotion than our entire make out session had, I just hope he felt it. 
  He leaned his forehead against mine, brushing my hair back. His touch was so soothing, I let my eyes close just as his were. 

"Alan..." 

Through the time we sat there, him holding the back of my head lightly, he whispered only my name, not saying a single word more. 

I was getting kind of tired by the time either of us moved. 

"It's pretty late, but... Would you like me to order those wings for you? I know how much you like them." 
That really sounded great right about now. 

"Sure, we can split them if you want." 
He shook his head, holding out his hand to pull me up. 
"I'm not hungry." 

"But you haven't eaten today?" 

"I know," he chuckled. "I'm just weird I guess." 
I smiled. 
"You're the best kind of weird."